


Angel in Disguise

by Rugs



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Castiel in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Demon Castiel (Supernatural), Demon Deals, Demon/Human Relationships, Fluff in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), M/M, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Pool & Billiards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27681226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rugs/pseuds/Rugs
Summary: Short fic idea where Castiel is a demon instead of an angel. Some fluff and light smut(?)
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Demon!Cas/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 18





	Angel in Disguise

“Dean, why are we stopping?”

“I need food Sam. I’m not a machine.”

Sam snorts and rubs his face sleepily, “fine, I guess we’ll stay the night here. It’s a few more hours till we get back to the bunker anyway.”

Dean nods and turns off the Impala, removing the keys as he opens the door. “I’m going to hang out at the bar for a bit, I think we earned it after that vamp nest.”

“Got it, I’ll find us a hotel room and text you the address.”

Dean flashes Sam a thumbs up before strolling up to the dimly lit bar. Sam shakes his head tiredly and wanders off to find a room at the nearby motel. Dean kicks the door open with his foot, spinning Baby’s keys on his finger. For a Thursday night, the bar is filled nearly to the brim, only a few empty seats dotting the room. He pushes past a few people, brushing shoulders before he finds an empty barstool in the corner. Dean signals the bartender, “one El Sol.”

The bartender nods and walks off. Dean runs his hands through his hair, fluffing it up as he waits. He stares mindlessly at the wall as he does so, barely noticing as the person beside him is replaced by someone else. Only when he hears the man beside him mutter does he let his eyes drift from where they were burning holes into the wall. The man next to him slouches a bit onto the bar, resting his left forearm on the counter while the other loosens the blue tie around his neck. A dark obsidian coat is draped over the man’s left arm. He looks over at Dean, still tugging at the knot at his throat. He flashes Dean a wide, toothy grin before glancing away.

The bartender dropped the El Sol off in front of Dean who was now side eyeing the stranger. “You’re lucky this isn’t a strip club,” the stranger says in a low voice.

His voice is smoky, smooth in way that pulls you in, but it has enough gravelly undertones to catch you off guard. Dean chuckles, “and why’s that?”

“Cause I would have to charge you for all the staring you’re doing.”

Dean sputters, nearly spitting out his beer. The stranger smirks and extends his hand to the blushing Dean. “Castiel.”

Seeing the odd look Dean gives him, he gives more context. “Family name, my parents were an odd pair.”

Dean nods and wipes is face on his sleeve. “Dean,” he answers.

The bartender wanders back over, and Cas orders a shot of whiskey. He drums his fingers on the wood counter as he waits. Dean spins around, facing the rest of the restaurant. His eyes sweep back and forth as he regains his composure. It’s not often someone, especially a guy catches him this off guard. The last time he was this flustered was decades ago. A few people come up to Cas, whispering about future meetings. Each time, the man gives them an awkward greeting before nervously getting down to business. Cas mutters times back to them and they wander away looking somewhat satisfied.

Cas throws back the shot, wincing slightly at the burn of the liquor. Dean chuckles and spins back around. “So, what’re you here for?”

Dean thinks about it for a moment, “just needed a drink and to not feel alone for tonight.”

Cas chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you play,” he asks, motioning to the pool tables across the bar.

“Of course I do, I was basically raised on it,” Dean says.

Cas slides off the barstool, “then come play me.”

Dean stares at the man’s broad back as he weaves his way through crowded bar, muttering apologies and “excuse me” as he does so. Dean throws back the rest of his beer and follows Cas.

“What’re we playing for Cas?”

“Whether or not you are lonely tonight,” Cas winks at him as he grabs a pool stick, ignoring the nickname Dean gave him.

“So, if I win? What happens”

“Guess you’ll have to play and see,” Cas chuckles as he sets up the balls in the rack.

Dean blushes and grabs his own pools stick, rubbing some chalk on the tip. “You go ahead and start us off Dean.”

Dean nods and lines up the ball. With a swift thrust of the stick, the balls disperse with comforting clacking noises. The solid red 7 drops into the one pouch. Cas nods and the two play. Dean’s phone buzzes in the middle of the game and he pauses while Cas takes his turn. Sam has texted him a room number and the hotel name, _Stagecoach Motel, Room 107. The door code is 7349_. He slides his phone back into his pocket and takes his turn. “Who was that Dean?”

“My brother, we came into town together. He texted me the motel room if I decide to not spend the night with someone here.”

Cas smiles and they keep playing. Dean eventually calls a pocket and gets the black eight ball in. “Well good game Dean, you play very well.”

Dean snorts, “thanks man. Anyways, what did I win?”

“Well, that depends on whether or not you’ll accompany me back to my motel room,” Cas says somewhat shyly.

Dean was dumbfounded. Never in his life had someone been this forward yet so awkward. He smiles a bit, “I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”

Cas smirks and starts walking out, throwing on his long black trench coat as he goes. Dean checks his pockets to make sure he has everything he came in with before following. Once outside, Cas starts to lead the way and Dean pulls out his phone. He types out a quick text. _Don’t wait up Sammy, see you tomorrow man_.

Sam doesn’t reply so Dean slips his phone into his back pocket. He picks up the pace to keep up with the man in front of him. They walk in silence to the motel down the street before stopping at room 203. Cas punches in a code and flings the door open. Dean followed him nervously, it had been a years since he had done anything with a guy.

The first time was when he was 14. His dad found out and somehow the silent disappointment had been worse than the punches. John had focused solely on making him more manly for the next few years, drilling it into his son’s head that he was not to like boys. From there on, Dean rarely got farther than first or second base with male hook ups cause no matter how much he tried to suppress it, he could hear his father shouting in his head.

Dean closes the door behind him. As he turns, he’s slammed against the door. Cas looks up at him, smiling. “I didn’t think you’d be a rough one Cas.”

“Well, you said you didn’t want to be lonely so I figured we wouldn’t waste any time.”

“Right.”

Cas leans in, gently kissing Dean’s collarbone. Dean shivers beneath him. He feels Cas’ lips brush against his skin as he smiles. Cas works his way up Dean’s collar, pausing each time Dean shivers. Cas plants a kiss at the base of Dean’s throat. Dean groans as he does so, feeling his pants grow tighter. Cas smiles, pulling away from Dean and pulling off his trench coat and hanging it on the hook besides Dean’s head. He steps back, fully unknotting his tie and throwing it on the bedside table. Dean shrugs off his flannel, hanging it beside the trench coat.

When he turns around, he sees Cas in the middle of unbuttoning his vest. He steps up to him, grabbing his hands. Cas looks up at Dean as he releases his hands and finishes unbuttoning Cas’ vest. Dean pushes the vest off of his shoulders, grabbing it in one hand and tossing it onto the floor. His fingers start unbuttoning Cas’ shirt, starting at his throat, and moving down. Cas, growing impatient, pulls Dean’s hands away and quickly undoes the rest of his buttons. He tosses it into the corner on top of his vest. Dean pulls his t-shirt over his head, throwing into the corner.

Dean sits on the bed, wrapping his hand around Cas’ neck, pulling him down. Dean leans back, laying on the bed as Cas bends over him. Cas kisses him while placing his hands on his hips. Cas tastes like whiskey and fire. His stubble scratches Dean’s face as they kisses. Cas pulls away, beginning to place kisses down his body. He starts at Dean’s throat, working his way to his collar bone, and then across his chest. As he drops light kisses down Dean’s ribcage, Dean arches his back. Cas holds him down as he lets his lips ghost over Dean’s hips, right along the top of his jeans. Dean squirms, letting out a little gasp.

Dean reaches up, winding his fingers in Cas’ fluffy brown hair. Gently he guides Cas’ head back up to his own, kissing him roughly. Dean grabs him and pulls him on to the bed. Wrapped up in each other, they have the night of their lives.

Cas is up first, waking Dean with small bites along his collar bone and nails tracing gently up and down his back. Dean grunts, burying his face deeper into the pillow. Cas smiles and throws off the covers. He slides out of the bed and stands. Stretching slightly, he snaps his fingers. He’s clean and fully clothed again, only leaving the bruise and scratches that Dean left. Dean rolls over, rubbing his face with one hand. Sleepily he mutters, “how long have you been up Cas?”

“Not very long.”

Dean snorts at the comment and sits up, running his hands through his hair. Cas stares at him, watching the thin beams of lights coming through the curtains illuminate the man in his bed. Cas rarely took people back with him, especially if they hadn’t made a deal.

Dean stood up, “I’m going to use your shower before I go.”

Cas nods, “I may be gone by the time you’re done.”

“Cool.”

Dean grabs his clothes off the floor and walks into the bathroom. Cas hears the water in the shower turn on. He listens as Dean climbs in; he can hear the water raining onto Dean’s back. He smiles, jotting a phone number on a notepad he pulled from his pocket. _873-666-2690._ He drops the paper on the unmade bed before grabbing his trench coat and walking out.

\------

Dean rubs his hand through his hair and wipes the water from his face. Water cascades down his back, making the scratches on it sting like he’d had a run in with nettles. He washes himself off quickly, groaning as he brushes over bruises. All cleaned up, he turns off the water and pulls aside the curtain, grabbing a towel. He dries his face and steps out of the shower. After quickly drying off, he wraps the towel around his waist. Dean stares at himself in the mirror. He has bruises and scratches everywhere from where Cas bit, sucked, and clawed. He closed his eyes, remembering everything they did last night.

Cas had made him beg, something he never did. God, Dean had wanted him so bad and Cas made him wait, kept him in suspense. Every kiss, every thrust, every bite only made him want more. Cas had sent him to heaven and then dragged him back down to earth. For once, Dean didn’t really want it to just be a one-night stand. He opens his eyes and begins dressing.

Stepping out of the bathroom, he looks around. His eyes catch on the paper on the bed. Walking over, he picks it up and looks down on it. _873-666-2690_. He pulls out his phone and stares at it for a moment. Making up his mind, he plugs the number into his phone along with Cas’ name. Closing his contacts list, he sees a few texts and missed calls from Sam.

_Dude where are you?_

_You never stay this long man._

_C’mon we need to get back._

_Dean??_

_Where are you Dean???_

Dean sighs and calls Sam back as he walks out the door. “Hey dude, where are you.”

Dean can hear Sam scoff over the phone, “I should be asking you that Dean.”

“I’ll meet you at the diner next to the bar in a few minutes.”

Dean hangs up and closes the door behind him. He walks past rows and rows of doors, dodging cleaning carts and other patrons. As he passes an opening between the motel and the nearby shop, he glances down the alley. He pauses, something having caught his eye. Down the alley he sees Cas. The man has another pushed up against the side of the motel, kissing them deeply. Dean stares in shock. No more than an hour since they woke up together and Cas already had his tongue down someone else’s throat. Not that it should matter, Cas was just another occurrence. Dean knew he had gone through so many one-night stands that it shouldn’t matter but for some reason it did.

Dean continues to stare, unable to tear his eyes away, unable to walk away. He watches as Cas pulls away, letting the person he was holding slump to the ground. Cas wipes his mouth and turns to leave the alley. As he does so, his eyes flash and a large shadow in the shape of wings is cast behind him. Cas looks at Dean. Dean sees the black eyes flick away and the shadow fade as Cas stops. “Son of a bitch,” Dean whispers.

Suddenly Cas is in front of him, grabbing him by the flannel and pulling him into the alley. Dean is shoved roughly against the brick wall, a hand on his chest and another covering his mouth. Cas’ bright blue eyes stare into his and Dean falters. His hand that had been reaching for the demon blade freezes. Cas begs, “don’t make me do this Dean, please.”

Disbelief and anger war in Dean’s head and it seems Cas can see it in his eyes. “I’m going to release you, don’t try anything.”

Dean nods as much as he can, and Cas removes his hands. Dean just stares at him as he backs up. “I just slept with a demon?”

Cas chuckles, “well demons are creatures of temptation and after a few centuries of doing so, we get good at our jobs.”

“I thought your lot just made deals.”

“Not always Dean. Before there was much religious freedom in the world, we had to corrupt somehow. Temptation is tool that, when used correctly, can change lives. Now we find it easier to simply make deals because mankind is already corrupt, and they have no problem with showing it. Coercion and tricks are not often needed anymore, call it an outdated practice if you want.”

“Is that what that was to you? Was last night just a refresher course on temptation for you?” Dean spits out.

A shocked look steals across Cas’ face. “It wasn’t Dean. Not at all.”

Dean can feel his face burning. He’s horrified, angry and embarrassed but he’d never show it. He mutters through gritted teeth, “go.”

“What?”

“You heard me Cas. I’m pissed but if Sam finds you, he’ll kill you.”

Cas stares at him confused. “Why would you ju-“

“GO CAS.”

Cas clenches his jaw and wraps his trench coat around himself tighter. Giving Dean a terse nod, he walks out of the alley way. Dean watches him go, longing for something he shouldn’t want for so many reasons. His phones buzzes in his pocket, jolting him from his racing thoughts. He pulls it out, yet another text from Sam. _Dude, I’m at the diner. Where the hell are you?_ Dean slides it back into his pocket and looks at the man that Cas left slumped in the alley. He seems to be fine and it is nowhere near cold enough to hurt the man, so Dean walks away. He heads to the diner in silence.

Dean opens the door to the little diner and steps in, scanning the place for Sam. He’s crammed into a two-person booth at the end of the diner talking to a waitress. Dean walks up and slides into the opposite booth. The waitress looks at him, “what can I get ya to drink?”

“Coffee.”

She jots it down and starts to walk off.

“Finally, Dean, I thought you had bailed on me.”

Dean just snorts and opens the menu. Looking up, he sees Sam looking at him, occasionally giving him a once over. Sam notices Dean staring and chuckles, “she really did a number on you dude.”

“What?”

Sam points at his own neck. Dean rubs his hand over the places Sam pointed out and winces. “Yeah, I guess they really did.”

Sam scrunches his forehead at the comment but doesn’t say anything. The waitress returns with a mug and a pot of coffee. She pours him a cup while he finishes figuring out what he wants. “The combo 2 with bacon, eggs scrambled.”

Sam chimes in, “I’ll just have a side of hash browns.”

She nods and jots down the two orders. “How was your night Sammy?” Dean asks, twirling his fork between his fingers.

“Just did some research and got some sleep. Not really as exciting as yours I’m sure.”

Dean chuckles and takes a sip of his coffee. Spotting Cas walking by across the road, he turns away from the window. He now focuses on the diner’s décor. After a few minutes their food is brought to them and a half hour later they are walking out the door. “We should get a move on Dean.”

Dean just nods and pulls out his keys, spinning them on his finger. Together, they walk back to the Impala. Dean unlocks the car and opens his door, sliding into the seat. Sam gets in next to him, tucking his long legs into the car. Dean turns on the car and throws it in reverse. Backing up he feels a jolt as the car hits something and he hears a thump as that something falls to the ground. “Son of a bitch!”

Dean shuts off the car and swings the door open, climbing out as fast as possible. Sam shoves open his door as well, hopping out. Together they walk to the back of the car. As he peers around the end of Baby he sees a man in a black suit and trench coat sprawled on the pavement. “Dammit Cas,” he mutters.

“Dude you hit a guy, that’s a first,” Sam chuckles as he kneels down to check on the man.

Dean walks back and opens the door to the backseat. “He’s out cold, help me pick him up and get him in the car.”

“Dean, what are we going to do after we load him up?”

“Just help me get him in the car Sam.”

Sam sighs and looks around before grabbing the guy by the ankles. Dean circles back around and shoves his hands under Cas’ armpits. Together they lift Cas and slide him into the back seat. “You sure we shouldn’t call 911?”

“Just get in the car Sam.”

Sam gives him a look but does as he is told. Dean slides back into the driver’s seat and restarts the car. He checks behind him, making sure no one else is walking behind the car. As he turns around, his eyes catch on Cas laying peacefully in the back seat and he smiles a bit. He turns back around and proceeds to back up and drive off. Sam only looks up from his phone when he realizes they are leaving the town. “Uh Dean?”

“What Sammy?”

“Where are we going? Shouldn’t we be taking the unconscious guy in our back seat to the hospital?”

“No.”

Sam looks at him confusedly and opens his mouth to say something, but Dean gives him a quick look. Sam closes his mouth and looks back out the window. “Do you know him Dean?”

“I met him last night at the bar briefly.”

Dean sees Sam’s forehead scrunch slightly out of the corner of his eye. Dean turns on the radio, flipping through the stations until he finds a satisfactory channel. Aside from the occasional humming and smacking of the wheel as Dean nods along to the song, they drive in silence. About halfway through their journey a groan is heard from the back seat. “You finally up?” Dean asks.

The man in the back seat lets out another groan and struggles to sit up. He holds his head in his hands, blinking slowly. “C’mon man, I know you can talk.”

Cas chuckles weakly. “Hello Dean. Please for the sake of my head be quiet."

Dean smiles, turning down the music. “So uh, how’d the two of you meet?”

“I told you Sam, I met him briefly in the bar.”

Cas snorts at the statement. “What’s so funny,” Sam asks, turning around to face Cas.”

“Nothing, just clearing my throat.” Cas extends his hand to the front seat. “Castiel.”

Sam reaches around and shakes his hand, “Sam.”

“Right. Well, I think I am going to lay back down.”

“You’re really okay with us hitting you with our car, throwing you in the backseat, and just taking you somewhere Castiel?”

Cas starts to lay back down, “I trust Dean.”

Sam turns around giving him a confused look, but Cas is already curled up in the back seat, eyes shut tight. Sam looks at Dean confused. Dean smiles a bit and keeps driving. Sam gives up and looks back out the window. They finish their ride in silence. Dean pulls into the garage of the bunker and turns off the car. “Go ahead and go inside Sam, I’ll wake him.”

“Whatever you say Dean.”

Sam steps out and goes inside, closing the door behind him. Dean sighs, looking into the rear-view mirror at Cas. He’s laying there peacefully, his blue eyes closed. Dean opens the door and climbs out, opening the door to the back seat. Cas does not stir so Dean places a hand on his hip and shakes him gently. “C’mon Cas.”

Cas lurches up, a fist swinging towards Dean’s general direction. Dean grabs his wrists, pushing him back down into the seat. “Woah, easy there tiger.”

Cas blinks a few times and wriggles underneath Dean. Finally, he stills, “where are we Dean?”

“For me? Home. For you? Well that depends.”

“You can let me up now Dean.”

“Just don’t try anything, please Cas. I won’t ask nicely a second time.”

Cas smiles and gives him a curt nod. Dean releases his wrists and steps back so Cas can climb out. Dean closes the door behind him and leads the way out of the garage. Cas stumbles along behind him and into the bunker. Together they step into the main room. Cas looks around at the room, eyeing the map table and switchboards. “C’mon Cas, I’ll show you around.”

Cas goes to take a step and finds himself unable to. “Dean.”

Dean spins around on his heel to face Cas. “What, c’mon man.”

He looks down and sees Cas standing on the edge of a carpet that they left in front of the entrance to the garage. Dean chuckles and walks back to Cas and kneels before him. He picks up the corner of the rug and pulls out his knife, flicking it open. He scratches away the red paint, breaking the devil’s trap. “There you go Cas. I forgot you can’t walk through these.”

Cas grumbles and steps out of the circle. “Hand me the red paint on the table would you Cas?”

Cas turns around searching for the paint can when Sam shoves it into his hands. “Really Dean? We’re just letting demons into the bunker now?”

Dean stands up quickly and steps between Sam and Cas. “He’s not a threat Sammy. If he wanted me dead, he would have done it last night.”

Cas drops to his knees, pulling out the paint brush and filling in the scratch, restoring the devil’s trap. Sam stares down at him, a confused look stealing across his face. Cas stands back up, dusting off the knees of his suit pants. He hands the paint can back to a stunned Sam. Dean turns and looks at him smiling. “See? He’s not that bad. Besides, he’s like my Ruby.”

Sam raises his eyebrow and stares at Dean. Sam knew he had a very intimate relationship with Ruby, so it caught him off guard that Dean compared this Cas fellow to her. Sam looks back at Cas and his eyes catch on the bruises that dot the area along his collar. His jaw drops and his forehead wrinkles as he realizes what Dean meant. Cas gives him a sly smile from over Dean’s shoulder. Dean’s face flushes and he looks away. “He’s staying with us Sam, he’ll be helpful.”

Sam stares at the two of them, his mouth opening and closing like he can’t get the words out. Dean just brushes by him, his pinky interlaced with Cas’ pointer finger. Sam smiles and tilts his head a bit. He walks off to return the paint can to its spot. Dean leads Cas through the halls of the bunker, pointing out the assortment of rooms until they get to an empty bedroom. Cas is left to settle into his new room as Dean and Sam settle into their new lives.

**Author's Note:**

> Bit of a rushed ending. Sorry.


End file.
